All Hail
by Coltsbro
Summary: Shepard was a proud Alliance soldier, one of the finest biotics in their arsenal. A betrayal sends him on a completely different path. What initially began as a quest for revenge quickly turns into something he could never have anticipated. Quickly he becomes that which he once despised and fought against. AU fic with many characters from the games, and feature MaleShep/Liara.
1. Chapter 1

"It's over, Shepard. Come out with your hands up!" The voice through the megaphone blared, taunting him. "It ends here, Shepard. No more deaths, no more war. Come out peacefully. There's been enough bloodshed."

_No, it can't be over. Not yet. _He looked at his own, disheveled reflection in the mirror. Gone was his once vibrant brown hair, instead replaced by an exhausted gray. The exiting spark that existed in his leaf green eyes had vanished some time ago, dulled by fatigue and wickedness. Hollowness was now substituted for his striking, proud looking face. He was a shadow, but even a shadow has a light behind it. _I will not be bested. I am still one to be feared_.

Turning around, he looked at the woman he loved, a broken smile on his face. She was undoubtedly a goddess, crafted to perfection by the hands of whichever creator a person could believe in. In some sense of twisted humor life had decided to bring himself and this perfect woman together, and he had corrupted her. Because of him this woman had now become a criminal and a murderer, and would very likely be put to death alongside him. Still, she loved him to the very core of her being. He did not deserve such kindness.

"It would appear that they believe they have us trapped," her elegant voice rang, as she walked up and placed a soft and comforting hand on his shoulder.

Shepard gave a haughty laugh at the statement. "So they think. We both know the second I walk out of that door I'll be a body full of holes," he replied. _They want to talk peaceful? There will never be peace_.

"They'll have to wait a bit longer for that, then," she said, her soul-warming smile directed at him.

_I can't let her continue this road with me anymore_, he thought to himself. He was sure his life would be over soon, but he couldn't live with the fact that she might die as well. As he opened his mouth intending to speak, he was surprised by a delicate finger over his lips.

"I am not leaving your side, Brennan. We both know that they will show no mercy to me," she told him, her voice was like a harp to him. Somehow, she managed to calm his soul by merely speaking. "I am with you until whatever end." She grabbed his head and pressed their lips together in a delicate and loving kiss only two soul-mates could share, renewing his will to live and see them grow old together.

Brennan nodded his head, wrapping his arms around her. "Okay, okay," he cooed. "We still need a way out of here though, and the only one I see is through a hail of bullets." His eyes scanned the building they were holed up in, not seeing any viable paths out of their predicament.

"Then I guess it's a good idea I chose this location for a reason," she replied.

He watched as she made her way through the building into a small room. Hearing the sounds of flash-bang grenades and shouting, he closed the door behind him. "Whatever you're gonna do, do it fast," he suggested.

She merely smiled at him and tapped on a section of the wall, bringing up a vid screen. She punched in a few numbers and a small passageway opened up next to them. She turned back to him, a slight grin on her face as she did so, and gestured to the doorway. "After you," she said.

Brennan couldn't help himself as he captured her lips again. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too. Now, let us hurry."

* * *

"Mayday, mayday, mayday! Kodiak Alpha-Sierra-Niner-Five-Niner is hit! I repeat, we are hit! Requesting immediate backup, landing in hostile territory! Crash trajectory puts us on course for enemy stronghold! Heading 20 degrees North, 50 degrees West. I repeat, we are going down!"

Commander Brennan Shepard frantically worked the controls to the doomed Kodiak shuttle, trying in futility to save the craft. He had been fighting through the entirety of the Torfan campaign. Whether it was infiltrating a base at night or leading a charge during daylight, he did it. He was a soldier, and soldiers followed orders. Several of his friends died, some while he watched helplessly, in this fight to extract revenge on the batarians for their invasion at Elysium.

The operation had gone well in the beginning, but quickly deteriorated as the batarians became severely desperate. The Alliance had severely underestimated just how challenging a foe the batarians proved to be, and it was costing them dearly. In what was a last ditch effort for the Alliance to push through and wipe out the resistance, the Alliance ordered an all out attack on the batarian stronghold. After taking a hit during their entry run, Brennan now found his life hinged on how skillfully he could land the shuttle and how quickly help would arrive from the Alliance.

Still strapped into the pilot's seat, Brennan felt a large shudder ripple through the shuttle's hull, and he noticed he was slowly losing the battle with the machine. Sweat dripping down his brow, he continued his pointless dance with the shuttle controls as his comm crackled to life.

"_Alpha-Sierra, we read you. Are you able to recover control of the shuttle?" _the voice on the other line spoke.

Brennan almost had to stop himself from laughing madly at the question. "What type of FNG asks a pilot if they can save a shuttle during a god damn mayday call!?" he screamed into the comm, gripping his chair as another shudder made its way through the ship's frame.

There was a brief pause before another voice presented itself on the comm. "_Shepard, this is Rear Admiral Sharpe. Are you landing in hostile territory?"_

"Aye, sir. We're pretty close to the base, I can't keep her up much longer. When will we be getting reinforcements?" he asked, looking back at his unit in the main hold.

"_There won't be any reinforcements, son,"_ Sharpe said coldly. "_Effective immediately we are pulling back to O.B. Alpha to regroup. Your sacrifices will be remembered and honored, soldier." _With that the comm went dead.

"What the fuck!" Brennan yelled to no avail in to the mic. "You can't leave us to fucking die against these fuckers!" Slamming his fist to the main console, he looked out the viewport to see the remnants of the main attack force. Losses were heavy on both sides, but it was clear the batarians held the edge. _Fuck this Sharpe guy, I'm not dying here_, he thought to himself. Looking back over his shoulder to his squad in the rear, he signaled to strap in. "Brass says they're pulling back, we're left for dead out here. I say fuck it, let's take as many as we can. I don't plan on dying here. You guys with me?" he shouted back.

Loud roars and fist pumps of approval filled the cabin, though alongside those chants were the silent looks of despair and feelings of despair. They all understood that they would likely die here, but they would be taking as many as they could with them.

The engine gave one more whine and then suddenly the shuttle lost all power. Feeling the sudden loss of the inertia dampeners, Brennan's stomach turned on itself as they plummeted out of the sky. No matter how much he disliked it, he was now completely out of control. He was at the mercy of the powers that be.

Feeling a sense of hatred boil up inside him as the shuttle was rapidly approaching the ground below, he thought back to a poem he had once written. Thinking it appropriate for the current situation, he lowered his head and closed his eyes, reciting the lines. As he finished, a jolting impact brought his world to darkness, only the words filling is existence.

* * *

_To those that listen, hear my prayer._

_Take not my life, for there is much to do._

_I have blood to shed, tears to give, and lives to end._

_Give me the strength to succeed,_

_and steer me not towards the greed._

_Hold my aim true, and my mind strong,_

_So I can do my job, and right the wrongs._

_A soldier's prayer._

* * *

**A/N:** _Hey all. So this is something that just sprang into my mind randomly. With Breaking Bad ending (one of the best shows ever, sad to see it end), it got the gears in my head shifting and I came up with this. This is a completely AU fic, exploring what it would be like if Shepard's life took a different, darker direction. Many familiar characters will be included in this, though their personalities/roles might change slightly based on how I want them to be represented. I hope you all enjoy this, and that I can create a masterpiece that you will love and impatiently mash the refresh button to check for updates._


	2. Chapter 2

Shepard slowly regained consciousness, blinking his eyes several times before his vision cleared. Looking around him, he found himself sprawled out on the ground next to the wreckage of the shuttle he had just been in. Shifting to his side, he determined that his body was functional, though he had severe pain in several areas. Bringing himself up onto his knees, he cast his gaze around the crash site to look for any signs of survivors. To his surprise, he saw several of his squad already on their feet and helping others do the same.

"We got Shepard over here!" one of the voices shouted out, some of the men coming to help him to his feet.

"I'm alright," Shepard replied. Standing up on his feet, he couldn't help but feel furious at the situation they were in.

"What's the deal? When are we getting our evac?" a marine asked.

Shepard shook his head. "We're not getting a goddamned evac," he said icily. He clenched his fist in fury, fingernails digging into the palm of his hand.

"What do you mean we ain't getting an evac," another marine chimed it.

Shepard wheeled on him and got up in his face. "It means, the Alliance is leaving us for dead!" he yelled. The Alliance, his family for the last several years of his life and the military he had bled for, was now turning their back on him. Seeing the defeated and shocked looks on the faces of his men, he knew he needed to take action fast.

"Listen up!" Shepard barked. "We are in the middle of hostile territory, you all know that. Intel we had before we crashed was that the batarian bastards were hurting in there, and that they wouldn't be able to hold out much longer." Looking over his men, he saw some of them start to sag in defeat. "I don't know why the Alliance is pulling back, but I do know this. We are still here, and we have a mission to do. We can either sit here and wait for them to kill us, or we can take the fight to them. Who's with me?"

His men all hollered and raised up their guns, buying into what Shepard was saying. A couple of them were reluctant at first, but after seeing the rest of the squad ready and willing to follow Shepard, the rest of them quickly fell in line.

"Alright," Shepard said. "Take five minutes and gather as much ammo and whatever else you think you'll need, and meet back here." As the men dispersed, he took a moment to gather himself. He looked down to see that his fist was still clenched, small trickles of blood seeping out of wounds from his palm. Releasing the muscles in his hand he thought about what he was about to do, what he was forced to do. Anger simmered within him, taking over rational thought. Fear was replaced by disregard, pain extinguished by determination, reason giving way to emotion. His head swam from the sudden rush of powerful emotions, gritting his teeth from what was happening. His limbs shook slightly from the effects of adrenaline, though he clamped down on that quickly.

The men returned quickly and all assembled before him. Shepard carefully looked over their gear and turned his gaze towards the batarian base. No fancy speeches were needed at this point, no finals words of encouragement. All that was needed was an order. "Let's kill us some batarians!"

* * *

**Age 17**

Brennan carried his mother from the skycar into the hospital he had just arrived at. He had found her strung out in another drug pen, high as a kite and on the verge of death. This had become a regular ritual for him over the years. His mother would get out of rehab and be fine for a couple of weeks, then she would disappear for a couple of days. He would go out searching local drug houses, and he would find her doped up on red sand. Sometimes she was healthy enough that she could just sleep it off at home. Other times, like at present, she was on the verge of dying from over-dose and he was forced to take her to a local hospital.

Occasionally, he would have to deal with a couple of gang-bangers while looking for his mother. He never got into a situation he couldn't handle, but he had also earned his fair share of battle scars. Fortunately, he didn't have any such encounters this time.

Handing his mother over to the care of the nurses, he returned to the all too familiar family waiting room while she recovered. He took up his customary seat in the corner of the room and closed his eyes. It would take them a couple of hours to get his mother healthy, and she would be kept overnight for observation. Just as he started to doze off, he suddenly was woken up by a stern male voice.

"How you holding up, son?" the man asked.

Battling off the sleep that was about to overtake him, Brennan opened his eyes to see a hardened looking man standing before him. "Fine. Who are you?" he asked suspiciously.

"I'm Captain David Anderson, Alliance Navy. I'm here to talk to you," Anderson said.

"Why do you want to talk to me?" Brennan said. He didn't trust this at all, how had they known he was at the hospital.

Anderson smiled. "We heard what you've been doing for your mother, how you look after her," Anderson said. "Even heard that you took on a couple of gangs to get her some help."

"Yeah, so?" Brennan asked defensively.

"We also saw that you took some basic Alliance military tests, your scores marked higher than some of our N7 recruits."

"I took those tests on a bet that I lost," Brennan replied dismissively.

Sitting down next to Brennan, Anderson relaxed into the chair. "Have you ever thought about enlisting?" he asked.

Brennan let out a scoff and sank back into the chair he was in. "If this is what you came for, you can leave now. I'm not going to enlist."

Anderson gave a look to the other men with them, and received nods in response. "We can help your mother," he said.

That got Brennan's attention. "Help her how? What do you mean?" he asked, sitting up and giving Anderson his full attention.

"We know your father died when you were young and it has just been your mother raising you," Anderson said. Placing his hand on Brennan's shoulder, he continued. "The Alliance has top notch recovery programs, and she can live on a base with a great supportive surrounding. She would be close to you and she'd be away from temptation."

Brennan didn't even need to think twice to give his answer. "You take care of my mother, I'll be whatever the hell you want me to be, sir," he said.

Anderson let out a happy laugh and stood up and shook Brennan's hand. "Excellent! After your mother is discharged from the hospital, we'll come visit you and go over details," he said.

Brennan gave off a salute, wanting to give the Captain the courtesy. "Thank you, sir!"

* * *

**Present Day**

Shepard sat in a blank looking office, patiently awaiting whatever was coming to him. His charge into the batarian base had been a success, but had come with a hefty price. Ninety percent of his men had died in eliminating the enemy, and in the heat of the moment he had executed all the slavers that had surrendered. Part of the reason was his hatred for slavery and how it disgusted him how these people acted, but deep down he knew a bigger part of it was due to the rage that he felt from being abandoned by the Alliance.

The door opened, and Shepard was surprised to see Anderson step through the door. "Shepard, it's good to see you," Anderson said with a smile.

Brennan stood up and gave a salute, still respecting the man who had taught him everything. "And to you, sir. If I may, what is this about, sir?" he asked.

Anderson motioned for Shepard to sit, and he did. "I won't lie to you Shepard, this is a mess. Since I consider you a friend and a son to me, I'm going to give it to you straight. You weren't supposed to get out of Torfan alive," he said straightly.

Shepard gave him a good, long stare as he digested what he was told. "I know, they were pulling back because it was too much for them. We were being left in enemy territory with no evac coming," he said, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice.

Anderson shook his head. "No son, you don't get it. Torfan was _supposed_ to fail," Anderson said. "The whole thing was supposed to go south so the Alliance could go to the Council to get more concessions and to strengthen our overall military power."

Shepard was floored. He once again felt that anger simmer up inside of him. "They what?!" he shouted out. "How could they do that? What the fuck is wrong with them?!" he asked, devastated that the Alliance would use him like that.

"I don't like it any more than you do, son." Anderson said. "Truth be told, there were some mumblings about wanting to dishonorably discharge you, get you out of the service. I managed to convince them otherwise. It seems like your heroics have earned you some popularity with the public."

Shepard raised an apathetic eyebrow, still simmering in anger. "Oh?"

"Your face is all over the extranet. Brass decided that it could use another good recognizable face in a good position. You're being given your own crew, and your own ship," he said.

That got Shepard's attention, though not for the reasons that Anderson thought. _How could they be that stupid?_ "Are you serious, sir?" he asked.

"Yes I am. You're being given command of the newest ship we have, the Normandy," he said with a grin.

Shepard's jaw dropped. He had heard of the Normandy, a ship being co-developed by the turians and the Alliance. He couldn't believe that the ship was now his. Shepard knew exactly what he was going to do with that ship. "I don't know what to say, sir. Thank you," he said.

"No thanks needed, son. Just go out there and make me proud," Anderson replied.

"Yes, sir!" Shepard replied with a grin.

* * *

**Several months later**

The Normandy pulled into dock on Omega. Shepard had been planning this for months, going along with the flow as is nothing was wrong. He went out on missions and completed them, kept in contact with his superiors, and was generally a model soldier. That was about to change. _If the Alliance thinks they can betray me like that and expect me to just let it all go over a ship, they have another thing coming, _he thought to himself.

Exiting the airlock, Shepard quickly made his way to his destination. Entering Afterlife, he reveled in the thundering base and the blasting of the drums. Their dark rhythm brought out his anger that he had kept in check for months. He felt himself lost in the music, but at the same time he truly felt free. Looking over to the VIP section, he made his way there quickly. He was unsurprised when he was stopped by a guard at the foot of the stairs.

"Hold it. State your business," the guard said.

"Commander Shepard," he replied curtly.

The guard moved out of the way and Shepard nodded his head in thanks. Making his way up the stairs, he found himself in a cozy office overlooking the bar and dance floor below. He appreciated the décor, it somehow fit the music of the bar perfectly. The furniture was edgy, yet extremely comfortable. The colors were dark and relaxing. Everything seemed to make him feel completely comfortable in the chaos.

Looking to his right, he saw the person he was supposed to be meeting. Sitting down on the couch, he took the drink that was offered to him. "Aria," he said.

Aria T'Loak smiled in return. "Commander Shepard, ready to talk business?"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** _Sorry for the long wait for updating this. The chapters from here on out should be longer, but they won't be longer just for the sake of being longer. I want to provide some actual content. Let me know what you guys think, whether you would like longer chapters or whether this kind of length is just fine. Next time, we get to meet the new Normandy crew!_

* * *

"So, what makes the great Commander Shepard want to do business with the likes of me?" Aira said musingly, watching one of her dancers in the background.

"The Alliance sold me out on Torfan, I was meant to die down there," Shepard said bluntly. "I don't take kindly to my life being thrown away for politics."

Aria laughed, turning her attention to Shepard. "If the Alliance would throw away someone like you for politics, I seriously want to know what new kind of drug they are pushing in their headquarters."

Shepard gave Aria a bemused smile. "Yeah, something like that."

Crossing her legs and leaning back into the couch, Aria's expression turned more serious. "Enough chatter. What is it exactly that you want from me?" she asked.

Shepard had thought for many months on what exactly he wanted. He had gone through several stages of anger, most of them ending up with him making everyone who had betrayed him suffer. He bled blue and white, and to have the very thing he loved betray him was devastating. However, it was also his love for the Alliance, and those that serve, that kept him from doing so. Instead, he decided to go a different path. "What the Alliance did to me was unforgivable. They made it perfectly clear I am expendable. I'm going mercenary."

Aria took a sip of her drink and stared down Shepard, studying him. "I see," she said. "While the Blue Suns, Blood Pack, or Eclipse would love to have someone like you on their roster, I see much more potential in you. I have something else you may be interested in."

"And what might that something else be?" Shepard asked questioningly.

"What do you know about red sand?"

Shepard's eyes narrowed at the mentioning of the popular, illegal drug. His mother battled red sand addiction for several years, often ending up with him dragging her to rehab or the hospital. He despised the substance, those who used it, and especially hated those who dealt it. "I know a thing or two, enough to know that I hate the shit. I'm not going to be a dealer, if that is what you're proposing."

Aria shook her head, laughing at what Shepard said. "You think I would have you dealing? I just said you had potential, don't insult me by questioning my assessment. No, what I have in mind for you is something much different. It is true, I do run my own red sand business. It brings money in, makes some people happy, and I get power and control in return."

Shepard gave Aria a quizzical look. He understood the money and he could see how, in a twisted way, people could be happy with the substance. He couldn't, however, wrap his head around how she got power and control out of it. "Explain?" he asked.

"We both know red sand is highly addictive. I believe you've witnessed it first hand what can happen to those who use it," Aria began. She held up her hands when Shepard glared at her threateningly. "Calm down, Shepard. I would advise against causing an incident here. I did some digging on you before I allowed you to meet me. I know all about your mother."

Shepard let out a frustrated sigh. "How does this relate?" he asked, angrily.

"It's simple, really. You can never trust a junkie to use in moderation, it's against their nature. What happens when you force them to use in moderation?" Aria asked Shepard.

Shepard shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know, they don't die?"

Aria smiled. "Exactly. They don't throw their life away on a fix. They keep coming back, buying more. That gives you control. If more people come to you, less go to other people. The more customers you have, the more money you have. The more money you have, the more influence you can get. Get enough influence, you begin to have power."

"So you're going to be the paragon of the drug dealers, wonderful. How do I fit in?" Shepard asked sarcastically.

Aria leaned forward menacingly towards Shepard, faint hints of biotics dancing at her fingertips."This will be your last warning, Shepard. I have been lenient and forgiving of your disrespect up until this point, mostly because I know you don't have much experience dealing with people like me. If you keep this up, we are going to have a problem. I have one rule here on Omega: Don't fuck with Aria."

Shepard narrowed his eyes, but relented. Part of him liked what Aria was saying, and it did make sense to him. Controlling the drug trade and the users themselves sounded promising. "I apologize. I still don't see where I fit in."

Aria nodded, and settled back into the couch. "In order to have control, you need to be the majority. Like any other product or service, there are always competitors. The tricky thing about the drug trade is that competition only goes away through violence."

"So you want me to eliminate your competition," Shepard said. He was finally beginning to unfold Aria's plans for him, and he enjoyed the idea of busting up several drug operations.

"Now you're catching on. You'd be given your own crew and control of where to go, but you report to me. I'd give you all the resources you need, and anything you come across when you raid other operations is fair game for you," Aria said.

Shepard shook his head. "If you did your research then you'd know that I won't touch any drugs."

"I wasn't talking about the drugs. I'm talking about the money, the weapons, the ladies..." Aria trailed off with a suggestive eyebrow.

"Oh," Shepard said. "How much money are we talking about?" Credits had never meant much to him, but it'd be nice to know he'd have enough to live off of.

"As far as what I'll be paying you, it will be pretty handsome. What you find during your missions, well... you'll find out soon enough," Aria said with a smile.

Shepard nodded. He liked what he was hearing. A chance to do some good, even though he personally disagreed with Aria running a red sand operation. As long as he was eliminating other dealers, and Aria held true to her statement of dealing smart, he could justify what he was doing. Still, there was one detail that Shepard wanted to bring to Aria's attention. "All right, I'm in. What about my crew, though? And what about the Alliance? When they find out what I'm doing, they aren't just going to let me go about my merry way."

Aria gave an apathetic wave of her hand in response. "Most of your crew is currently on leave here. I'll send a security force to remove the remaining personnel from the ship. As far as the Alliance, I think you'll be able to handle yourself. I do have a small fleet available to use at my discretion if you get yourself into a bind. The Alliance won't risk war with me, the fallout could be disastrous for them."

"I don't want any of the crew harmed," he said. While he was turning his back on the Alliance, he still respected those who serve and didn't want their blood on his hands.

"I will do everything to make sure it goes as peaceful as possible. Now, there is one more matter of business we must attend to," Aria said.

"What would that be?"

Aria motioned to one of the guards by the stairs, and he rushed off. Several moments passed before he returned with another asari. Looking her over, Shepard couldn't help but stare. She was the most beautiful asari he had ever seen. She moved with a gentle grace, with a touch of shyness. Her crest was blanketed by soft freckles that made her appear very innocent. The dark sea-blue of her eyes made Shepard feel oddly peaceful. How someone this beautiful ended up with Aria was beyond him.

Aria cleared her throat to gain Shepard's attention. "If you're done staring, this is Dr. Liara T'Soni. She will be handling all information aboard your ship, as well as being commanding officer. Do you have a problem with that?"

Shepard caught himself starting at the asari again, and shook his head to clear his thoughts. "I'd need to know her credentials if I'm going to have her as an XO."

"She's the daughter of one of the most powerful Matriarchs the asari have, Matriarch Benezia. She was trained for several years alongside asari commandos. From what I understand, she is a very skilled biotic. She's proficient with several firearms, has good leadership qualities, though she's shy as hell, and is damned good at information brokering."

Shepard thought it over, once again looking the asari over. She did look slender and nervous, but if what Aria said was true she was also a formidable ally. Nodding his head in approval, Shepard stood up and walked towards the asari doctor, holding out his hand. "Dr. T'soni, I'm Brennan Shepard. It would be a pleasure working with you."

Liara returned the gesture and shook his hand, ducking her head as her cheeks warmed slightly. "I look forward to working together."

Aria clapped her hands together and held up her drink. "Well, now that we got pleasantries out of the way, it's time we get to work."

* * *

Lieutenant Adams walked through the Normandy, heading to the crew lounge. He had just gotten done with some tune-ups to the Normandy's engines and wanted to get some well-deserved sleep. Rounding the corner, he opened the door to the lounge and headed straight for his bunk. Kicking off his boots, he plopped down onto the bed and let out a content sigh. "They may not be the best things in the world, but they do feel like heaven after a hard day," he said to himself out loud. He had just began to doze off when suddenly the comms blared.

"_Adams, sir, we're being... ordered off the Normandy,"_ Flight Lieutenant Lincoln said hesitantly over the comm.

"Ordered off the Normandy? What do you mean? Shepard said we have leave, that we could do what we wanted. He wouldn't kick us off, would he?" He was in disbelief. Adams didn't particularly care for Omega, and would much rather spend his leave aboard the Normandy.

"_It's not the Commander, Adams. There's a god damn miniature army outside, ordering us off the ship. It looks like Aria's personal guard."_

"What the fuck?!" Adams blurted out. "Why in the hell is Aria T'Loak sending her goons after an Alliance ship? Is she crazy?"

There was some commotion over the comms, and Adams remained frozen in place. After several moments, a new voice came over the comms, broadcasting throughout the whole ship.

"_Normandy crew, on orders from Aria T'Loak and Captain Shepard, you are to leave the ship immediately. You will be given one chance to leave on your own volition. If you refuse to cooperate, you will be forcibly removed from the ship. You have five minutes to comply until we begin sweeping the ship."_

_What the fuck_. That was the only thought running through Adams' mind right now. He found it hard to believe that Shepard would be working with the likes of Aria, even more so that he was turning on the Alliance. _What in the hell is he thinking?_ Knowing he had no other choice, he grabbed a couple of essentials and began walking out of the crew lounge. Spotting his omni-tool on the way out, he paused and rushed over to it. He may not be able to do something about what was happening, but he was going to make sure the Alliance knew of Shepard's betrayal. Pulling up Captain Anderson's contact number, he quickly scrawled a message.

_Normandy being overtaken at Omega. Shepard turning on Alliance, working with Aria T'Loak. Crew being forced off of the ship. More later._

Sending the message, Adams made his way to the CIC. Walking towards the airlock, he caught sight of several mercenaries with automatic weapons watching over the rest of the remaining crew leaving the Normandy. Scowling, he made his way past them and out of the airlock to Omega's space port. His expression turned into a snarl as he saw Shepard standing at the end, expression unreadable. Walking past the rest of the crew, he walked up to Shepard and spit on the ground in front of him. "You're a disgrace to your uniform," Adams said venomously. "How could you do this to the Alliance, to your crew?"

Shepard's expression remained unchanged, though Adams saw a hint of regret in his eyes. "I don't expect you to understand, Adams. Just leave and you won't be harmed."

This time, Adams swung a hook at Shepard and caught him in the jaw. Immediately several of the mercenaries raised their weapons, others moved in to beat him down. They stopped, however, when Shepard held up a hand signaling them to back off.

"I probably deserve that, but now you have to go," Shepard said coldly.

Adams glowered as mercenaries began pushing him on his way. Giving a little shove to get the mercs off of him, he hastily walked off to god knows where. He didn't know what the fallout from this was going to be, but all he knew was that he wanted to be part of the team that brought Shepard to the firing line.

* * *

Captain Anderson couldn't believe what was happening. Not two hours earlier, he had received word that Shepard had gone rogue and ran off with the Normandy, removing the Alliance crew and replacing it with his own. To make things worse, he was working with Aria T'Loak of all people. Already, Alliance High Command was calling for his head on a platter. Anderson was personally in disbelief, that the man that he had known was capable of doing this. Part of him held hope that Shepard was being coerced into doing this, but the logical side of him knew that this all stemmed from Torfan.

"Captain Anderson, you knew Shepard best. You will be the one to bring him to justice," Admiral Hackett stated with authority.

Anderson nodded his head. "Yes, sir. What resources do I have available to me?" Anderson didn't like the idea of chasing after Shepard with the intent to bring him to the Alliance to be shot, but at the same time he couldn't let him get away with it.

"We're having a ship commissioned for you, the _SSV Omaha_. We are in the process of putting together a crew for you. The Omaha should be ready within two months."

Anderson nodded. "What do we do until then?"

Hackett pulled up a list of names and places. "We have people keeping eyes on him. The Normandy is quite the piece of work, and we can't commit too many resources trying to capture a single ship. We have people monitoring the Normandy's movements and reporting back to us. Once the Omaha is ready for service, you will begin your pursuit."

"Sir, what are my parameters? What if Shepard is being coerced into doing this?" Anderson asked.

Hackett shook his head. "You and I both know that Shepard isn't being forced to do this. On the off chance that he is, and you can prove that he is, we will deal with that when the time comes. Your main objective is to bring him back alive to face Alliance review. If that is not possible, you are authorized to shoot on sight."

Anderson's expression turned grim. He hated the idea of ending the life of a man he cared for like a son, but also felt an obligation that it be him. "Understood, sir. I won't let you down."


End file.
